


Of the  Twenty-First of December and Something Wrong

by Thegreenofyoureyes



Series: Christmas Fics 2015 [21]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Ashton's sad though, Bipolar Ashton, Christmas Angst, Christmas Fluff, Depression, Luke and Ashton don't fight at all, M/M, and Luke is an angel, it's not conventionally angsty, self-harm (mentioned), suicide (mentioned. Not even really considered.)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:44:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5492681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thegreenofyoureyes/pseuds/Thegreenofyoureyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Realistically, Luke knew Ashton was like this sometimes. Mostly, the meds and the counseling take care of the dips and the highs, and Ashton is okay. Not great, of course, because being mentally ill fucking sucks in ways that Luke didn't even realize until he knew Ashton, but he was okay. Happy, even. He would work and go on hikes, and it let Luke trick himself into thinking that the monster that sometimes lived with them in their little house, their little life, would never come back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of the  Twenty-First of December and Something Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Day 21! This one is a lot heavier than usual, and we'll get back to fun ones tomorrow. This is an idea I've been itching to write for a while. @Tanniri on Tumblr is wonderful.

Realistically, Luke knew Ashton was like this sometimes. Mostly, the meds and the counseling take care of the dips and the highs, and Ashton is okay. Not great, of course, because being mentally ill fucking sucks in ways that Luke didn't even realize until he knew Ashton, but he was okay. Happy, even. He would work and go on hikes, and it let Luke trick himself into thinking that the monster that sometimes lived with them in their little house, their little life, would never come back. 

It did, though. Four days till Christmas, and Ashton was in bed when Luke got back from work. The older boy did, of course, have work too, but when Luke saw the state of their bed, the state of his boyfriend, it became pretty clear that he hadn't gone. 

If he really looked, Luke could see the monster in Ashton’s tired eyes. It was black, and grey, with dull eyes, and it was everything Ashton wasn't. Mostly, it just sat in waiting, waiting for something just wrong enough to happen, for the chemicals in Ashton’s beautiful brain to change enough that it could come out of its cave and rip Ashton to pieces. Quiet pieces. 

It was never sudden. Not really. In retrospect, Luke should've known what the extra cup of coffee and the lack of exercise meant. He should've known that the last little manic episode couldn't come without its twin. He should've taken the day off and cuddled his boyfriend until everything was okay again. He knew it didn't work like that, of course, but it's a lot easier to blame yourself than it is to blame nature and chemistry. Easier than recognizing that someone you love so much is, actually, broken. 

Luke supposed it was a good thing Ashton was still in bed. Although he knew it meant he hadn't eaten, hadn't showed- hell, he didn't have glasses on and he sure as hell hadn't put his contacts in- it also meant that Ashton was safe. Sometimes the monster took Ashton’s hands and did physical damage as well. That was usually a manic thing, though. Not always, but usually. 

Ashton hadn't responded to Luke’s texts earlier, which wasn't unusual. Ashton was supposed to be at work, after all. Everything had seemed just a bit fine. Perhaps that's why it hurt so much to walk into their bedroom and see Ashton still lying where Luke had left him earlier-whatever it was he needed from their bathroom was long forgotten. 

Ashton didn't respond to Luke’s presence beyond a tired, hurt, and so fucking sad smile. It was awful, and Luke could actually almost see the monster in bed next to Ashton at that moment, but it was an acknowledgment. That was always better than nothing. After three years, and what felt like endless training, Luke knew what to do. He still felt absolutely hopeless. 

“Should I call in and tell Harry you're sorry for not going to work, babe?” Luke asked quietly. Ashton was lucky, truthfully. His boss was a friend that knew about his Bipolar disorder. It would be okay. All would be forgiven. 

Ashton managed a quiet “yeah,” but nothing more. Luke felt a bit like crying, and he couldn't tell if it was sadness that that was all Ashton could do, or happiness because at least he could do that. 

So Luke called. Harry owned a little, strange music shop that catered to the city’s desperate LGBTQ+ community. It was a nice place, and Ashton loved it. He always hated missing work. 

“Hey, Luke,” Harry answered, his usual cheer devoid from his voice “is everything alright? Ashton didn't come into work today. Is he okay?”

“He's alright. I dunno quite when but,” Luke decided to walk to the hall and shut the door. Ashton didn't want to hear this, “a depressive episode started. He’s on meds, as you know, and it takes the edge off, but this is a pretty bad one. His only last a few days, usually, which you also know of course, so he should be back after Christmas.”

“I don't mind. We’re closing on Wednesday anyway. He will be *back* before Christmas though, right? Like okay? I know he loves it. He's been talking about taking you to spend it up with your families nonstop.”

That made Luke smile. It was hard, sometimes, for him to reconcile the three people he lived with. Sure, they were all Ashton, all the same personality, but there was something fundamentally so different about this one, about manic Ashton as well. He loved them all, because he loved Ashton more than anything, but it was hard. 

God, how must Ashton feel? What was it like slipping out of yourself? Knowing you should tell someone but not being able to? Having to know that everything you're feeling, no matter how real, how eviscerating, would be gone soon. Knowing you had to make it to the end, even though hope seemed tied to sunlight and dawn was hours away. Of course, Luke had thought all this before. There hadn't been many episodes. Enough that he knew what to do, that Harry had to know in vague terms the intimate details of Ashton’s mind. Luke hated that the most. He hated that Ashton’s biology gave up his right to privacy for him. 

“Luke?” Harry said tentatively “is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing's happened,” because Luke knew what that question really meant “just got lost in my thoughts. Sorry.”

“It's okay. You're okay. Hey, let Ashton know this isn't a big deal to me, yeah? That he’s still my favorite employee, and I know this is gonna happen sometimes. He warned me. It's not his fault, either. Make sure he knows I know that. When he's back, of course.”

Which was how they always phrased it. It wasn't like that, though. Ashton was still himself, still had to experience what he was feeling, what he did. It just didn't make any sense later. It made it easier, though. 

“Will do. Thank you so much, Harry.”

“Nothing to thank me for. Nothing at all. Goodbye love, and merry Christmas.”

“Goodbye.”

Luke stood in the hallway for a second longer, to catch his breath, before going back into their room. Ashton had flipped over, which was a good sign, and he was almost making eye contact with Luke. Perhaps he would've been if he'd been able to see. 

“You want anything to eat?” Luke asked. He knew the answer. In an hour or so, he'd make sure Ashton ate. Give him some yogurt and berries or something. Ashton was the cool in their family. 

“Not really,” Ashton said. He knew he should eat. Of course he knew. Didn't change anything. 

“Alright. That's okay. In a bit, yeah?” Luke waited for Ashton to nod. “Do you want me to get in bed with you? I can put pajamas on first, so I'm all soft.”

Ashton nodded again. Luke stripped down quickly before pulling on the penguin pajama bottoms Ashton had gotten him as a joke a few weeks back. In this moment, it felt like a million years ago. 

He got into their bed, under their soft covers, and moved closer to Ashton. They were face to face, and their legs were touching. 

“Do you want me to hold you?” Luke asked. 

“Yes please. I'm sorry.”

“For what?” Luke said softly as he pulled Ashton closer still, the older boy now resting on his chest. 

“For being like this. For not telling you one was coming on.”

“Hey, it's alright. I mean, it's not, cause you're sad and that's awful, but don't worry about me. This is part of you, and I love all of you, okay?”

“No.”

“What?” It was a fine balance, letting Ashton let it out, and letting it out becoming self-loathing. 

“This is fucking hard, Luke. Being like this is hard. It's not really okay.”

“You're right. It's hard.”

“I'm not- it's like I'm not me, you know? Like my brain decided to take all the good things about me and replace it with whatever this is. It's hard and it hurts and I've done nothing but sleep all day, yet I'm tired.”

“I'm sorry.” This was an alright direction. It seemed like Ashton was blaming the illness and not himself. 

“And, like, I hate being manic. It's fucking scary. I can't even trust myself. But it's better than this.”

It wasn't. They both knew that. Ashton’s manic episodes didn't bring dancing in fields or great music. It was all self-harm and no sleep and reckless behavior. The last bad one Luke had found Ashton on a tall bridge. He'd never worked out of Ashton thought he could make the jump or not. Depressive wasn't fun, of course. It was fucking torture for Ashton to feel nothing but sad and nothingness for days on end, torture for Luke to watch it, but at least he didn't leave the house enough to really hurt himself. 

“You're talking a lot. That's good.”

“Nothing is good… I can't see.”

“You want your glasses?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

“I should though. I should get up and go to the bathroom and stuff. At least.” 

And it hurt to know, even though Luke already had, that Ashton hadn't even done *that* yet. 

Ashton had once described his depressive episodes as sitting in a chair and knowing there is a cure for what he was feeling on a table at the other end of the room, but not being able to get up and get it. Not having the energy or the motivation to get the monster off his feet so he could walk 12 steps to fix it all. Luke really saw that right now. 

“Yeah, you probably should. Do you want me to get them for you?”

“Would you?”

“Of course.”

Ashton laid in bed for 5 more minutes after Luke had put his glasses on for him. It wasn't a long time, sure, but every second made it clear just how not okay everything was. 

Luke made Ashton leave the door to the bathroom open. Nothing would happen if he didn't, probably, but Ashton wasn't a risk Luke was willing to take. 

He got back in bed quietly. There was a tint of humiliation sitting next to the monster behind Ashton’s glasses. Luke hated that, too. If he couldn't take all the other shit away, he at least wanted Ashton to know that Luke was alright.

“You're doing well, you know. This one isn't so bad, I don't think. Maybe you'll be done before Christmas?”

And it had taken Luke a while to be able to talk about Ashton’s swings like this. Like something medical, with a beginning and an ending. Something that was predetermined to happen.

“I hope so. Don't want to ruin it for you.”

“For you, too. And it wouldn't be ruined. We’d just have it a little late.”

“Thank you.”

“It's nothing. And, like, your last manic one was pretty short and minor, right? It was, like, two days?”

“Only one was really bad. I was just me but tight-strung after.”

“So maybe this will be like that, too?”

“Maybe. Would it be alright if we didn't talk for a bit?”

So they didn't. Luke just held Ashton close to him and listened to his breathing. Even that sounded hard. Maybe Ashton was crying. 

Their room was nice. Ashton had decorated it in blue and green, because they were like the outdoors. There were pictures of the two of them on countless adventures spread across all the walls and mixed with miscellaneous memorabilia on the horizontal surfaces. It was a nice reminder of who he was, who they were. Ashton really needed to eat. 

“I'm gonna go get us something to eat, okay?”  
Luke said, untangling himself from Ashton. 

“Okay. Come back.”

It wasn't an immediate request. More of a “don't leave me for this” than a “don't leave this bed”. 

“I will.”

They had a bit of dark chocolate left from the cookies they'd made, so Luke decided to mix that into the yoghurt as well. Ashton loved dark chocolate, and Luke seemed to remember something about its chemical effects on happiness. Of course, Ashton was type 1 bipolar in a depressive episode, not a sad person. It probably wouldn't help much, but it made Luke feel better anyway. 

Ashton had sat up in bed when Luke returned, which felt just a bit like a Christmas miracle. He handed Ashton the bowl and was pleased at the small, fleeting smile on his lips. At least it was there.

“Are you better or worse than this morning?” Luke asked, because honestly he had to know how many days he'd be calling in sick. Christmas was soon enough that it wasn't a huge deal either way, but he still needed to let his boss know. 

“Better. You're here. And everything feels a bit less foggy now.” Ashton told the truth about this. He didn't love his disorder, of course, but he was honest with it for the most part. 

“That's good. I'm glad. Is there anything you want to do?”

“Can we just watch a movie?”

“What one?”

“Does Netflix have the new Cinderella? I've had the song she sings in it stuck in my head all day.”

“No, but I think iTunes has it on sale. And we know a bunch of kids who'd like to watch it, so it's not a waste of money or anything.”

“You're sure?”

“Positive. Anything that feels better.”

“Could you kiss me, do you think?” Ashton asked once Luke had the movie playing on his laptop. The lights were off in the room, but Luke could still see Ashton’s eyes. There was a bit of a shine back to them. The monster was packing up, for now, heading back to its cave. It wasn't packed yet, and likely still had a bit of cleaning left to do before it would go, but it was still nice to see. Luke was certain now, whether it was true or not, that Ashton would be okay by Christmas. 

“Of course I can,” Luke replied softly. Their lips still fit together like they always did. It would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Would anyone be interested in a continuation of this idea somewhere?


End file.
